Fatal Convictions

28

Shannon had to park a block away from the Mobassars’ duplex and argue her way through the police working crowd control. Somebody had probably tipped off the media about Khalid’s perp walk. All the local satellite trucks were in place and had no doubt recorded the event. The crews were now busy doing the obligatory neighbor interviews.

Shannon spotted Khalid in the back of a police cruiser and approached the uniformed officer who appeared to be in charge-a tall man in his midforties with gray hair and a thin gray mustache. His name badge identified him as Lt. Shaw. Shannon introduced herself, and Shaw asked for identification. He studied her bar card for a long moment and did a double take.

“You’re his lawyer?” Shaw asked.

“Is that a problem?”

Shaw studied her, perhaps deciding whether to put up a fight. Shannon had seen it all before. When she showed up in court with Alex, most people assumed she was his paralegal. When she told a new acquaintance that she was a lawyer, the most common response was a one word question: “Really?” But every time somebody underestimated her because of her size or Mary Lou Retton looks, it only made her more determined.

“No problem,” Shaw groused.

“Good.” Shannon motioned toward the car. “I’d like to speak with my client now.”

“We need to finish processing him first. As soon as we finish executing the search warrant, we’re taking him down to the station for processing.”

“Let me see your warrant,” Shannon demanded.

Shaw frowned and produced the paper. Shannon examined the document, returned it to Shaw, and thanked him. She turned and headed toward the cruiser.

“What are you doing?” Shaw asked, following behind her.

She ignored him.

“What are you doing?”

Shannon stopped just outside the tinted glass of the cruiser’s backseat window. Khalid was alone in the seat, hands cuffed, looking up at her with fearful eyes. Another officer came over and stood beside Shannon, placing a hand against the door as if Shannon might try to open the door and spring her client.

Shannon ignored the officer and focused on Khalid. “Don’t talk to the cops,” she said loudly. “As soon as they ask you a question, demand your lawyer. Don’t talk to anybody at the jail-especially your cellmate…”

“Ms. Reese, you can talk to him downtown,” Lt. Shaw said sharply, stepping between Shannon and the cruiser.

Shannon looked past Shaw and locked eyes with Khalid. “Got it?” she asked loudly. When he nodded, Shannon turned back to Shaw.

“Try to keep the waterboarding to a minimum,” she said.***

The inside of the duplex was trashed. Shannon complained loudly to Detectives Sanderson and Brown, following them from room to room, commenting sarcastically on their handling of the Mobassars’ stuff. The officers ignored her as they methodically emptied every dresser drawer, pulled all the clothes from the shelves, shook open every book in the library, and confiscated legal pads, journals, credit card receipts, and Khalid’s computer.

After they left, Shannon found Ghaniyah sitting on her bed in the middle of the shambles that had been her bedroom. She was staring at the mess, stunned beyond words at what had just transpired.

Shannon knew she couldn’t leave Ghaniyah alone. The poor woman, still trying to recover from her brain injury, would be overwhelmed by the simplest of tasks. She would never be able to cope with this.

“Why don’t you pack up a few things and spend the night at my place?” Shannon offered. “We can start cleaning up first thing tomorrow.”

Ghaniyah looked at Shannon as if she was surprised to discover that Shannon had entered the room. “What did he do?” Ghaniyah asked. “When will they let him go?”

“I don’t know,” Shannon admitted. She looked at a small pile of Ghaniyah’s bras and panties. Shannon thought about how humiliating it must have been for this conservative Muslim woman to have a man pawing through her stuff.

Then another thought hit Shannon. Ghaniyah would be equally distraught at the notion of Shannon helping reorganize Khalid’s clothes.

“Why don’t you work on the bedroom, and I’ll start downstairs on the study,” Shannon suggested. “After we get things picked up a little, we can talk.”

“Okay,” Ghaniyah mumbled.

Shannon glanced over her shoulder as she left the room. Ghaniyah had not moved an inch from her spot on the bed.